Misunderstood
by AnimeSlasher
Summary: "Please...please...Gokudera, don't hate me!" Begging. He was outright begging now. Yamamoto x Gokudera. Two-shot.


**Misunderstood**

_Disclaimer: Once again, I only own the idea. Not the characters or anime. _

_Rating: M (for later chapters)_

_Pairing: YamamotoxGokudera _

_Warnings: language, yaoi, OOCness_

Chapter 1

He'd been avoiding the baseball idiot for almost a month now and even his usually oblivious Jundaime was stating to notice. Not to mention the fact that he was running out of excuses to flee the room as soon as Yamamoto walked in. He'd been so caught up in avoiding the dark haired boy he'd been neglecting his duty as right hand man, though, Tsuna hadn't complained. The shy boy seemed more than happy to spend some alone time with his precious Kyoto.

Still Gokudera wasn't the type to neglect his job. He had to stop these childish actions. It didn't matter if he was mortified. The silverette had to steel himself and face the baseball idiot. He had to get it over with, like peeling a bandaid. What if Tsuna got hurt while Gokudera was hiding from Yamamoto like a coward? He'd never be able to forgive himself.

It was decided...he didn't have a choice.

The silverette leaned against the wall just outside of the locker room, cigarette between thumb and index finger. Baseball practice having ended almost ten minutes ago he'd been waiting for Yamamoto, but as player after player filtered out the door Yamamoto remained inside. He'd have to look inside. Maybe the baseball idiots of all baseball idiots had somehow managed to slip through without the bomber noticing.

He took one final drag from his smoke before pushing himself off the wall. He steeled himself and walked in.

It was silent, except for the running shower. That must have been Yamamoto, everyone else seemed to have left and he could see the others uniform on the wooden bench against the wall preventing view into the shower room. He wished the wall wasn't there and immediately blushed when he realized it.

Gokudera shook his head trying to rid his head of thoughts like that.

He walked over to the clothes then, hesitating only for a moment before grabbing the white buttoned up shirt. He smiled softly as his eyes landed on the stain just over the stomach area. He'd laughed when Tsuna had clumsily spilled his juice on Yamamoto at lunch today...of course he'd also ran off as soon as Yamamoto's eyes met his.

He sighed quietly at the memory of the look Yamamoto had given him. One of almost hurt...but understanding as well. He dropped the uniform shirt where he'd gotten it with a slight frown before he spotted another shirt. A navy blue shirt laying on the ground. Yamamoto's undershirt.

He didn't even realize he'd walked over and picked it up until it was in his hands. The fact that it was slightly damp should have grossed him out, but it didn't. It made him want it closer. So he pulled it up and held it against his nose. Sweat, a slight hint of detergent, and a smell distinctly Yamamotos.

The smell alone was making Gokudera remember things he shouldn't have done, but had enjoyed doing. Things he wanted to do again and again...with Yamamoto.

"Gokudera?" The silverette jumped, turning and dropping the shirt in the process.

His breath caught at the sight in front of him. He had to stop himself from jumping on the baseball idiot and force his gaze away from a sculpted, tanned chest.

"Are you alright?" No, he wasnt alright! The idiot was dripping wet in nothing but a towel!

"Um...I was just...waiting" Gokudera said ignoring the question. He focused his gaze on the floor, trying to calm the blush, while hiding it behind his long hair. One of the many benefits of long hair. That and having it pulled...

"Waiting? How long have you been here?"

"Does it matter?" Yamamoto didn't answer and Gokudera looked up to see the dark haired boy staring down at his feet with an obvious blush of his own. "We need to talk," Gokudera added feeling bolder at Yamamoto's submissive behavior.

Yamamoto took a deep breath. Gokudera tried not to notice his chest rising and falling. He looked up with a fake grin and nodded.

"Yeah..." Yamamoto agreed.

But Gokudera felt his heart clench at the sight of such a fake smile, of such a hurt look. The look pissed the silverette off. What right did that idiot have to look like that?

"Forget it! I don't want to talk to you!" Gokudera spat stomping to the door. Just as he was about to pull the door open, though, Yamamoto seemed to snap out of his daze and caught the others arm, stopping the smoker.

"Let me go you stupid baseball idiot!"

"No" Yamamoto whispered. His arms wrapping around the struggling boy. "Gokudera, please..." His voice sounded so sad it made the smaller boy want to cry as he relaxed into the others arms. "I'm so sorry...I should have stopped..."

Gokudera didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to hear about this. He didn't want to hear that sadness...that regret.

"Please...please...Gokudera, don't hate me!" Begging. He was outright begging now.

"Wha-"

"I know its a lot to ask. I know you have every right to hate me...but..." Gokudera could feel drops hitting his shoulder...he prayed it was from the shower. He didn't want Yamamoto to cry...

"I love you, Hayato"

His breath caught at the dark haired boys words.


End file.
